


back where we belong

by nightswatch



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 5+1 Things, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 19:24:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14960631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: Five times Jeff Troy wasn't on Kent Parson's line, and one time he was.





	back where we belong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Measureless](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measureless/gifts).



> Thank you, measureless, for finding me something to write about.

**1.**

**November 2011**

 

Kent Parson is 21 years old and he can’t say that everything has been easy during those 21 years. 

He still somehow made it to the NHL in one piece, despite the disappointing father and the struggle to scrape together enough money for his hockey gear for a while when he was a kid – that was a bit of a mess. Falling in love with a teammate was a bit of a mess, too. Finding the guy he was in love with passed out on the bathroom floor was an even bigger mess. Getting drafted by a team that might have not even wanted him? That still bugs him, too.

But he’s here. And that’s all that matters in the end, right? Things are getting easier. Kent is finding his way. It’s taking a while, but he’s learning. 

Smiling for the media? Easy. Telling them what they want to hear? Easy. 

Making friends on the team? Not as easy as he hoped it would be. He’s been in Vegas for two years. He’s the captain. But the guys still tease him like he’s a rookie. It’s all in good fun and he knows that, but he can tell that some of the guys don’t respect him. He can tell that they don’t think he’s earned the C on his jersey. That bugs him a little, too.

What he did think would be a lot easier this season, though, was winning against the Aeros. 

_Everyone_ should be winning against the Aeros, that’s how bad they are. Their first line center is out with a concussion. Their star goalie signed with a different team during the off-season. Two of their D-men are currently injured. 

This should be an easy win. But it’s not.

It’s not, because the Aeros called up a kid called Jeff Troy from the minors and Jeff Troy has been making a fool of them for the past two periods. It’s this kid’s first NHL game and he’s already scored two goals. 

Kent can tell that Troy is having the time of his life, and part of him is happy for Jeff Troy, because not everyone gets a two-goal game the first time they play, but the other part, the one that’s mad that he’s losing, wants Troy out of the way. With a performance like that, though, there’s no way he’s going back to the minors. 

Jeff Troy is here to stay. 

Jeff Troy is also out there looking for a hat trick. 

And the extremely petty part of Kent just can’t allow that. Kent isn’t a big guy, and Troy is definitely bigger than him, but Kent still tries to run him into the boards behind the Aces’ net. Troy manages to get the puck away from them, but they get tangled up and both fall over, Troy ending up face down on the ice with Kent on his back. 

Kent hears the whistle when Sunny catches the puck, so at least they have time to untangle themselves. Kent huffs as he tries to get off Troy, and much to his surprise, Troy says, “You okay?”

“Fine,” Kent grumbles and scoots back, so he’s sitting on the ice between Troy’s legs. This must look absolutely hilarious on TV, but Kent can’t worry about that right now. 

Troy sits up as well and pushes his helmet back into place. He grins at Kent, gets up, and skates away to the bench. Kent isn’t sure what to think about this guy, but there’s something decidedly mischievous about him. 

They end up back on the ice together towards the end of the game. The Aces’ goal is empty and Kent is desperately trying to get this puck into the net, but when he passes to his center, Henny, the puck ends up getting intercepted by the Aeros and a moment later Jeff Troy has it and he takes off with it, the Aces’ defense trying to somehow keep him away from the empty net. 

Kent follows him quickly and gets to him just in time when he shoots. Kent manages to get his stick on it and the puck ends up going wide of the net. 

“Couldn’t let you have that one,” Kent shouts.

Troy’s grin is still broad when he turns around. He shrugs. “Have you taken a look at the scoreboard recently?”

Kent doesn’t reply. He knows what the scoreboard looks like. The Aces are still losing. 

On his way to the faceoff circle, Kent bumps into Troy. Just a little. And entirely on purpose. Troy is the kind of guy who’s so good that Kent wants him on his team. On his _line_. 

This will bug him for a while. And it’s only their first game against the Aeros this season.

 

 

**2.**

**February 2012**

 

It’s Kent’s third season in the NHL and he’s taking the Las Vegas Aces to the Stanley Cup finals this season for the second time since he was drafted. 

Or at least that was the plan until Henny got injured. Now Kent doesn’t have his regular center and they won’t even make it to playoffs if things don’t improve soon. Management knows it, too. They need a new center, because Henny isn’t coming back any time soon, and if they want a real chance at winning the Cup, they need to bring in someone new.

The rumors that are floating around are insane.

If all of it was true, every single player on the Aces would be in danger of getting traded. Kent likes to think that he’s not one of them, but there are a few people on his team that he’d rather not lose, because they seem to genuinely like Kent. Like Sunny. And Scrappy. And Bennie. 

Bennie’s his center for now, he got moved up from the second line, but they’ve never played together before – Henny has always been Kent’s center and it worked out pretty well for him, but Henny’s contract is up this summer and there’s no way of telling if he’ll re-sign with the Aces, or if the Aces will even want him to stay. The problem with Bennie is… Well, Bennie is a great player, and they’re doing well enough together, but they just don’t _really_ click. That’s only a mild annoyance, though. Kent can make it to the end of the season like this, but they need another center. A good one.

It feels like the entire team is holding its breath.

The trade deadline is only a few hours away when Dani gets pulled from practice. 

“Oh, shit,” Bennie says. “It happened.”

“Maybe he’s hurt?” Scrappy says.

Bennie shakes his head. “Don’t think so.” He gives Kent a pat on the back. “Better get that guest room ready.”

Kent almost wants to protest; Henny is usually the one who adopts the new kids, but since Henny is injured, it probably really is Kent’s job now. He’s the captain after all. Management would also find the new guys and the call-ups a hotel, but Kent feels like he at least has to offer.

Hopefully Kit won’t try to eat whoever ended up getting traded to the Aces. If that someone even wants to stay at Kent’s place.

*

It’s Jeff Troy. 

Kent finds out on Twitter right after the end of practice. The Aces paid a steep price for him. One player from the NHL team, one player from the farm team, and a draft pick, but they’ve all seen Jeff Troy play and they know what he can do for this team. 

Troy arrives later that day and Kent volunteers to pick him up at the rink after he’s talked to management. He’ll take him out for dinner, say, “Welcome to the team,” and take him to his hotel. Or Kent will take him home. 

At the rink, Troy is all smiles. He’s busy shaking hands with everyone when Kent pokes his head into the conference room. “Hey, it’s Jeff, right? Good to have you on the team,” Kent says. And really means that. 

“Jeff, this is Kent Parson,” Coach Martinez says. 

“Hey,” Kent says and shakes Troy’s hand. “Are we finding you a hotel or are you coming to my place?”

“You don’t mind if I camp out in your guest room for a bit?” Jeff asks. 

“Not at all,” Kent says.

So Jeff Troy comes home with him. 

Kit doesn’t even get a chance to eat him. As soon as they’re in through the door, Kit comes darting out of the living room and Jeff picks her up. “Hey, I’ve seen you on Instagram.”

Kent stares at them, probably a little bug-eyed. “Okay,” he says. 

“She’s cute,” Jeff says. 

Kit glares at Kent over Jeff’s shoulder, like she’s asking him to explain how he could allow this, but in the end she doesn’t claw Jeff’s eyes out.

“Thanks for having me,” Jeff says. 

“Sure,” Kent says, still not sure what kind of alternate reality he ended up in, and leads Jeff down the hall to the guest room.

Maybe this won’t be so bad.

*

“Thoughts on the new kid?” Scrappy asks. 

Kent watches Jeff for a moment – Coach Martinez is talking to him and Carts over by the bench. “I kinda want him on my line,” Kent says quietly.

“You want him as your center?”

Kent nods.

Scrappy punches his arm. “You already have a center.”

“Henny isn’t coming back for a few months,” Kent says. Maybe Henny isn’t coming back at all. Kent went to his house the other day to talk to him and it didn’t sound like Henny had made up his mind about his future with the Aces yet. And, well, he hasn’t heard any whispers about what the Aces want, so who the fuck knows what’s going to happen. 

“You have Bennie now,” Scrappy reminds him. 

Kent hums and picks at his stick where the tape is coming loose. He likes Bennie, but he wants the new guy and Kent has always worked hard to get what he wants. 

“We’ll see,” Kent says. 

 

 

**3.**

**February 2014**

 

Kent is woken up by a knock on his door. He’s still wearing his Team USA sweater. And his boots. He squints down at them. There’s something not right with that. 

Jetlag is fucking evil and he has no idea for how long he’s been asleep, but he’s pretty sure that he promised Jeff that he’d meet him for dinner. He doesn’t have to guess who’s outside his door. 

“I’m sorry,” Kent says as he pulls the door open. 

Jeff frowns at him. Then he frowns at his boots. “See, it looks like you’re ready to go, but, then again, you’re almost an hour late.”

“I fell asleep,” Kent grumbles.

“Aw,” Jeff says and waltzes into Kent’s room without an invitation, looking around with interest. “Hey, at least yours is done. That’s great.”

Kent snorts. He’s heard the stories. In fact, he’s been following along on Twitter and he’s never been more entertained. 

“Here, I brought food.” Jeff holds up two plastic bags. “On the off chance that you just forgot about me and didn’t ditch me for, like, a super hot Swedish skier.”

“I’d never ditch you for a super hot Swedish skier.”

“Yeah, you would,” Jeff says and flops down on Kents bed.

No, Kent really wouldn’t. Unless the super hot Swedish skier was a guy, but that’s definitely not the kind of super hot Swedish skier that Jeff is talking about. Kent shakes his head at him and pulls the Team Canada hat off Jeff’s head. “Get that outta here.” 

“Rude,” Jeff says. “I’m just trying to be nice here.”

Kent huffs and sits down next to him. “Like the good Canadian boy that you are.” He gives himself five more seconds to glare, then he adds, “Thanks for the food.”

“Sure thing, Parse,” Jeff says good-naturedly. “So, how are things? Like your team?”

Kent shrugs. Of course he likes the team. Well, he doesn’t like all of them on a personal level, but he gets to play with the best guys they have, which is not an opportunity you get every day. Playing with guys you’ve never played with before isn’t always easy, though. This isn’t the All Star game where they’re playing mostly for shits and giggles, this is the Olympics and he has a chance to go home with a gold medal. 

Kent is a good player and he knows how to make things work, but he also knows what real chemistry feels like. Coach Martinez put Jeff on his line the season after they won the Cup when Henny didn’t come back to the Aces and signed with the Schooners instead. It took them a couple of games to get used to each other and it wasn’t instant magic like it was with Zimms, but Jeff has been his center ever since. It’s been one and a half years and they’re still tearing it up. 

“That’s all you have to say? A shrug?” Jeff asks.

Kent huffs. “Shrugging isn’t exactly saying something, _Jeffrey_.”

“Aw, Parse, babe,” Jeff says, “don’t be mean. Why are you so grumpy? Did things in practice not go your way?”

Kent narrows his eyes at him. “Why, did someone say something?”

“No one said anything, but I guess I’m on to something here,” Jeff says. 

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Have I ever told anyone any of your secrets?”

Kent waves him off. Of course Jeff has never told anyone anything, because Jeff is a decent person. Kent could tell him that he’s gay and Jeff wouldn’t tell a soul, and that makes it so terrifying, because Kent could actually tell someone the truth and nothing terrible would happen. 

He pushes the thought away and says, “I don’t like playing with Higgins.”

“Higgins from the Schooners?” Jeff asks. 

“Yeah.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s an asshole,” Kent says flatly. 

“Why?” Jeff grins. “Does his hair looks better than yours?”

Kent rolls his eyes at him. He actually has a legitimate reason for hating Higgins, but he doesn’t really want to talk about it.

Jeff frowns. “Shit. What did he do?”

“He didn’t do anything,” Kent says. “Forget I said anything.”

“Then what did he _say_?”

“ _Nothing_.”

“Parse, come on.”

Whatever, this is Jeff. He can keep his mouth shut. “He’s just one of those guys who thinks it’s funny to call everyone and everything he doesn’t like _gay_ ,” Kent says. “It’s annoying as fuck. I mean how old is he? Twelve?”

“Oh,” Jeff says, suddenly looking thoughtful. 

“Whatever,” Kent says. He won’t make a big deal out of it, he doesn’t want anyone to think that it offends him _personally_. Well. It does, but no one can ever know that. Kent doesn’t want to deal with that kind of bullshit.

“Have you considered punching him in the face?” Jeff asks. He’s trying to be funny, but Kent has definitely considered it. 

“Eh. Don’t want a reputation for punching my lineys. Don’t want you to get scared, Swoops. You may not come back to Vegas if Kent Parson is known for giving his teammates a black eye here and there.”

“I’m not scared of you,” Jeff says. His grin is so bright that it might have half a chance at outshining the sun. “You miss me, don’t you?”

“No.”

“Yeah, you totally do.”

Kent shrugs. “Maybe a little.”

Now Jeff’s grin really is brighter than the sun. 

 

 

**4.**

**March 2015**

 

“How are you feeling?”

“Parse. Chill.”

Kent tries to hold his ground and stare Jeff down. “What are they saying?”

Jeff sighs. “They’re saying day-to-day.”

“Okay,” Kent says, nodding slowly. “That really isn’t terrible. I can deal with that.”

“Oh, I’m so glad that this is about you now,” Jeff says drily. 

Kent glares at him. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeff says, clearly amused. “Will you please sit down? It makes me nervous when you’re pacing. Come on.”

Kent glances at Jeff’s ankle, propped up on a pillow. “Do you need more ice?” 

“I’m okay,” Jeff says and pats the empty spot next to him on the couch. “Sit down.”

“Fine…” Kent sits down next to Jeff. “Wanna watch a movie?”

“Can’t really do much else.”

Kent hums and grabs the remote. He can’t stop looking at Jeff’s leg. It really isn’t as bad as it could have been and he’ll be fine to play again in a couple of days, he just needs some rest, but they’re two weeks away from the playoffs and Kent wants his center back. 

It makes him anxious to have Jeff out of the lineup. 

“Parse,” Jeff says softly. “You’re fidgety. Relax.”

Truth is, Kent hasn’t been relaxed ever since Jeff got tangled up with Monty at practice this morning and Jeff had trouble getting off the ice on his own. They wouldn’t tell Kent anything when he asked earlier at the rink, so he went to Jeff’s place as soon as he could. He let himself in and found Jeff on the couch. 

“I really did scare the crap out of you, huh?” Jeff asks.

“What, did you think I was joking?” Kent mutters.

“Well…”

Kent presses his lips together. He doesn’t like seeing his teammates get hurt. It’s even worse when it’s Jeff. 

“Hey,” Jeff says and reaches out to wrap his arm around Kent’s shoulders. “I’m gonna be okay. Promise. I’ll be back in no time, you won’t even notice that I’m not there.”

“’Course I’ll notice.”

“I’m a fast healer,” Jeff says.

Well, Kent certainly hopes so.

*

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

“But?”

“But they’re not letting me play tonight,” Jeff says. 

That’s pretty much what Kent was expecting, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t still be grumpy about it. It’ll be his second game without Jeff and he doesn’t like it one bit. They have one more game in Vegas in two days and then they’re off on a roadie. Kent needs Jeff on that roadie with them. 

“Stop looking like you’re about to murder the entire coaching staff. They’ll probably let me skate tomorrow,” Jeff says and nods at the couch. “Have some pizza.”

Kent grabs a slice and sits down. He practically lives on Jeff’s couch these days, but someone has to make sure that Jeff is okay and doesn’t go hobbling around the house when Kent can just hang around and get stuff for him. The sooner Jeff comes back, the better it is for all of them. 

“I don’t know why you’re being such a baby about this,” Jeff says. “You scored twice without me last night.”

“That’s not the point,” Kent whines. 

“Then what _is_ the point?”

Kent shoves the rest of the pizza into his mouth and pretends that he can’t reply. He lies down, feet pressed against Jeff’s arm. “I gotta take a nap.”

“Sure,” Jeff says and gently pats Kent’s ankle. He laughs quietly. “You miss me.”

“No, I don’t.”

Jeff hums.

“Maybe I’ll miss you if you stay on your couch for another two games. _Maybe_.”

“Yeah…” Jeff’s hand lingers on Kent’s ankle for a moment, his fingers warm on Kent’s skin. “That’s what I thought.”

Then his hand is gone and Kent almost wants to ask him to put it back. Shit, his mind really comes up with the dumbest thoughts when he’s half-asleep. 

 

 

**5.**

**December 2016**

 

“Parson, Fredrickson, Carter,” Coach Martinez says. “First line.”

Kent frowns. That’s not right. That almost sounded like Coach put him on a line with Freddie and Carts. 

“Garcia, Troy, Black. Second line.”

Kent can see the guys around him shift and look around, all of them catching on to what’s happening here. Coach is shaking up pretty much every single line.

It makes sense, in a way. Bennie is out with a concussion and Sammy has a broken foot, so they have a new forward and a new D-man on the roster for a bit. They have to slot in somewhere and the Aces haven’t been doing as well as everyone was hoping they would. 

After the Falcs won the Cup last season, everyone’s been looking at the other expansion teams to see how they were doing. The Aces have made the playoffs every single year since they won the Cup in 2012, but they haven’t made it to the final round ever since then either. Something needs to change. It’s a logical step to do something about the lines. The next one is to do something more permanent about the roster. And the coaching staff. 

Kent can only hope that this isn’t permanent. He can play with anyone and Fredrickson is a solid guy. He’s mostly been on their third line and he’s been doing good work, so he deserves this chance. 

Still. Kent can’t say that he’s a fan of this decision. 

He glances at Jeff, who’s staring at Coach, his expression carefully guarded, not giving anything away. When Kent glances over at Fredrickson, he sees that Freddie is smiling.

At least someone is excited.

*

“When are you putting Troy back on my line?”

“Kent…”

Kent raises his eyebrows at Coach. “Just wondering,” he says. Maybe that question came out a little too harsh. A little too demanding. He’s not here to make demands, he just wants his guy back.

Coach Martinez gives him a look and pulls him aside. “You have a problem with Fredrickson?”

“No,” Kent says. The problem isn’t Freddie. The problem is that Freddie isn’t Jeff. Kent wants his Jeff back. 

“Then he’s staying where he is,” Coach says, pats Kent on the back and walks away. 

That didn’t go as well as Kent had hoped it would. 

The worst thing is that shuffling the lines actually worked in the end. They had a bit of a rough start, but now it looks like they’re actually headed for the playoffs again. Kent doesn’t have a real reason to complain anyway. His line is scoring. Jeff’s line is scoring. They’re doing their jobs. They’re winning games.

It’s more fun with Jeff on his line, though.

*

“Ugh, I feel dead,” Kent grumbles as he shuffles into the kitchen.

Jeff looks up. He has his phone in one hand and a fork in the other, shoveling cold Chinese food into his mouth. 

“Why are you naked?” Jeff asks.

“I’m not _naked_.” Kent is wearing boxers. And socks. That’s good enough. 

“It’s winter.”

“Shut up, we live in the desert. Also, I’m not actually awake.”

They went out after their game last night to celebrate New Year’s. Kent remembers getting drunk at a club and he remembers dragging Jeff into a cab and he remembers helping Jeff to the couch and then nearly tripping up the stairs on the way to his bedroom. It was a good night, but now he regrets having a few of those drinks. 

Kent grabs a fork and peers into one of the takeout boxes. Honestly, he doesn’t even care, he just wants to eat something, except he also doesn’t want to eat anything.

Jeff gives him one of those looks that he’s been giving him recently.

Kent gives him a look back. 

He has definitely entertained the idea that Jeff might find him attractive. Ever since the day the Falcs won the Cup and Zimms kissed his boyfriend on live TV, ever since they left the bar that night and went to Kent’s and got stupidly drunk, ever since Jeff sat down next to him on the couch, clutching a bottle of beer, and said, “Parse, I’m gay,” ever since Kent gave him a pat on the back and said, “Yeah, me too,” ever since then Kent has had the feeling that Jeff has been looking at him differently.

The thing is, maybe that’s just wishful thinking. Maybe he just _wants_ Jeff to look at him differently, but it’s not real. 

“Do I have something on my face?” Jeff asks. He takes a cold spring roll. “If I do, I really don’t care.”

“Nah, your face is fine,” Kent says and squeezes his eyes shut. He can’t keep looking at Jeff and his scruffy face, for reasons he’d rather not share. “I think I’m still drunk.”

Jeff sighs. “We should probably take an Uber to practice.”

“Ugh, practice.” Kent makes a sad face at the sweet-and-sour chicken. “It’s been a month since Coach took you off my line and he’s not gonna give you back.”

“We’re still on the power play together,” Jeff says. 

Kent sticks out his bottom lip.

Jeff smiles at him and it’s a little lopsided. “You miss me,” he says.

“Yeah. Well. I do.”

Jeff reaches out to squeeze his arm. Kent’s skin tingles where Jeff touched him.

Kent isn’t sure what kind of face he’s making now, but he makes sure that the sweet-and-sour chicken is the only one who can see it.

 

 

**+1**

**June 2017**

 

It’s Game 4 of the Stanley Cup finals and Kent has just returned to the bench with the first power play unit when it happens. Freddie’s out there with the second unit and he gets run into the boards and he doesn’t get up. 

Several seconds tick by and Scrappy kneels down next to Freddie and he still doesn’t get up. 

“Shit,” Kent says. Someone’s hand is on his back, but he’s not really paying attention right now. He feels sick. 

One of the trainers hurries over and he manages to get Freddie back to his feet with the help of Scrappy. Freddie looks pale. Like he’s about to throw up. That’s never a good look on anyone. 

“Troy, you’re going out with Parson and Carter.”

Kent looks over at Jeff. 

Jeff only nods. 

Kent wanted this to happen, he wanted Jeff back on his line, but not like this, and the look on Jeff’s face tells Kent that he’s thinking something similar. Kent clacks his stick against Jeff’s and Jeff clacks his stick right back. 

They’re going to go out there. And they’re going to win this game. They’re going to tie up this series and they’re going to win two more games and they’re going to lift the Cup again. That’s what they’re going to do. 

They just decided that.

*

They take it to a Game 7. They’re on the road. Kent feels like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin all day, but once they’re in the locker room putting on their gear, he feels strangely calm. He remembers this feeling from five years ago. It’s a little unsettling, it’s like nothing is real. 

Jeff is sitting in the stall next to him, staring down at his skates. He hasn’t said anything in a while.

The room is pretty quiet as a whole, but everyone suddenly looks a little livelier when Freddie comes into the room on crutches, holding a small scrap of paper. Starting lineup. “Okay, guys, here we go,” Freddie says. “Starting tonight are Parse, Swoops and Carts! Scraps and Ham. And Sunny in goal! Let’s go boys, you got this!”

Everyone cheers for him and Sunny waddles over to give him a hug. 

Jeff, still without saying a word, holds out his fist. Kent bumps it and smiles. One way or another, it’s all going to be over in a couple of hours. They’re either going to go back to their hotel empty-handed or they’ll be out there with the Cup, celebrating until the sun comes up. 

Kent takes a deep breath. He just wants it to start already.

Jeff glances over at him, then he looks away again. A moment later, he leans closer, just enough so their shoulders are touching and Kent has never been more grateful in his life that Jeff knows him this well. 

Once they’re out there, it’s nothing more than just a hockey game. An important one, yes, but Kent knows how to play hockey, and maybe he feels like he wants to throw up on the ice as they line up for the opening faceoff, but after that it’s just shift after shift after shift. When Jeff scores his second goal of the night twenty seconds before the second period ends and they’re up 3-0, Kent is starting to enter that strange state where he already knows that they can do it, but doesn’t want to believe in it just yet, because who knows what will happen in the third. 

Nothing happens in the third. 

Not a single goal. 

When the clock runs down, someone crashes into him and lifts him off his feet. It’s Jeff. Of course it’s Jeff. 

Sunny wraps them both into a hug a moment later and then they’re surrounded by the rest of the team and for a bit there’s only shouting and hugging and Kent is pretty sure that Scrappy is crying a little, so he gives him an extra pat. 

Kent untangles himself eventually to start the handshake line and someone hands him a _Stanley Cup Champions_ hat. It still feels like a dream. Last time it felt like a dream, too. Best dream he’s ever had. They give him the Conn Smythe. Kent almost misses it, because he’s too busy putting Sunny in a sandwich hug with Jeff. 

When he was handed the Cup five years ago, Kent thought he’d never feel that happy again. He thought that was it. And maybe if he was able to do it a second time, he’d feel just as happy, but nothing could ever be better than that feeling of lifting it for the first time.

He was wrong. 

Because this time he gets to skate back to his guys and he gets to hand the Cup to Jeff Troy, who has the audacity to look surprised when Kent skates over to him to hand it over. Jeff kisses the Cup and takes off for his lap around the rink and Kent doesn’t let himself get pulled aside for an interview until Jeff has handed the Cup to Ricky. 

Kent gives Freddie’s head a pat as he skates past him. He feels bad that the kid didn’t get to play until the bitter end, but it’s only right that Kent got to finish this with Jeff on his line.

When the interviewer asks him why he decided to hand the Cup to Jeff – probably as opposed to Ricky, their other alternate captain, who’s been on the Aces longer than everyone else on the team – Kent says, “Well, you know, Jeff has only ended up back on my line recently, but he was my center for a couple of seasons and we’ve been through a lot together and he… he deserved it.”

Ricky will forgive him for being the third and not the second one to hold the Cup this time around, Kent is sure. 

The guys are still going when Kent is done with his interview. It seems that the girlfriends and wives and families aren’t down on the ice yet, so he skates over to Jeff an puts an arm around him.

“Look at that, we did it again,” Kent says.

Jeff turns his head to look at him, a soft smile on his face. He looks tired, but he won’t get to sleep for a while. “Yeah, we did it again.”

Kent doesn’t feel like he can let go of Jeff yet, so he holds on as the rest of the guys skate around the ice with Cup. A lot of them weren’t even on the team five years ago. A lot of them will have their name on there for the first time. 

“Hey, there’s your mom,” Jeff says and points across the ice.

Kent still can’t let go. “Right, I should…”

Jeff grins and gives him a little push. Kent almost wants to take him with him.

*

“Good night, lil Cup,” Kent says and almost falls over as he tucks the Cup into his bed.

It’s practically morning. They’re going to get a few hours of sleep and then they’re going to pretend that they’re not too hungover for breakfast and then they’re going to get on a plane back to Vegas. Kent has never felt this tired in his entire life. 

“S’cute,” Jeff says, already snuggled into bed. “Where’re you gonna sleep?”

“Here,” Kent says and flops down on Jeff’s bed. 

“Fuck you,” Jeff says and rolls over. 

Kent hums, closes his eyes, and passes out almost instantly. 

They get a wakeup call from the front desk about five minutes later – or at least it _feels_ like it’s five minutes later. It’s not, though, because it was still dark when they went to bed and it’s not dark anymore. 

Kent sits up with a groan, but he can’t help but smile when he sees the Cup, still tucked in his bed. Next to him, Jeff sits up as well, bleary-eyed, his hair disheveled. He looks good with longer hair and it looks even better when it’s messy like this.

“We won that,” Jeff says, his eyes on the Cup. “Is it weird that last time it didn’t feel like I really earned it, because I was the new guy and… I don’t know. You guys did most of the work.”

Kent reaches out to put his hand on Jeff’s back. “I hope you know that this time you definitely earned it.”

Jeff nods. “Thanks for… you know… handing it to me.”

“You didn’t think I would, did you?”

“No,” Jeff says, “I really didn’t.”

Kent sighs softly. He doesn’t want to live in a world where Jeff thinks that kind of thing. “I missed you.” 

It sounds strange, and he almost expects Jeff to turn it into a joke and to say, _But I never left_ , because that would be the most _Jeff_ kind of thing to do, but then Jeff says, “I missed you, too,” and something snaps inside of Kent.

He leans in without an inkling of fear. It seems right. It’s like he’s been waiting for this moment, like he’s been holding his breath and now he can finally breathe again. It’s a soft kiss, just a press of lips, but they linger for a moment before they pull apart. Kent’s hand is still on Jeff’s back. He’s too afraid to move. 

It’s Jeff who reaches out and gently puts his hand on Kent’s thigh. 

“Breakfast,” Jeff says quietly.

“One more minute,” Kent says, looking straight ahead at the Cup. Once they leave this room, there’ll be interviews and meetings and parties, so he wants one more minute to sit here with Jeff and to smile about what just happened. 

One minute to be happy, one minute to drink it all in, to revel in the euphoria. One minute to lean his head against Jeff’s shoulder, one minute for Jeff to kiss the top of his head.

That’s all he wants. One minute. And then they can go back to reality. 


End file.
